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I didn’t want to yell in case Hayden was sleeping. But then I heard laughter from upstairs and my chest immediately eased.
The sight that greeted me brought a smile to my face. Hayden was in the middle of the bed, Charlie and Marilyn flanking her. They were propped up against the headboard, the three of them tucked underneath the covers.
I’d never seen my mother-in-law without a face full of makeup. It was unlike her to dress comfortably, but the last week had clearly taken its toll.
“Hi,” Hayden said, her smile bright when she met my gaze. Her eyes asked a thousand questions—questions I couldn’t answer with Charlie and Marilyn in the room.
“What are we watching?” I asked, my eyes sliding to the TV.
A black and white sitcom played across the screen and Hayden laughed again. The sound warmed my cold insides.
“I Love Lucy,” Marilyn said. “Charlie bought the anniversary DVDs and we’ve been watching them all morning.”
“Have you seen it?” Charlie asked me.
“No.”
“Classic,” Hayden said. “The chocolate factory episode is the best.”
“No way,” Charlie negated. “Vitameatavegamin wins, no contest.”
“You’re both wrong,” Marilyn stated. “It’s the one where they’re in Paris and Lucy goes on a hunger strike until Ricky buys her a designer gown.”
“Clearly I’m going to have to sit and watch this show and see for myself,” I stated.
Marilyn lifted the covers off her and she got out of bed. “Now that you’re home, I can go.”
“Me too,” Charlie said, getting up.
“Thank you,” Hayden said.
Marilyn leaned over and kissed her daughter’s forehead. “We’ll come back tomorrow.” She walked toward me and brushed her cheek against mine. “We can show ourselves out.”
I gave Charlie a side hug and then the two women left the bedroom. Hayden and I were quiet until we heard the front door shut.
“You look tired,” Hayden murmured.
“So do you,” I stated.
“I slept the night though, apparently.”
“I know. Charlie texted. But it’s pain meds sleep. It’s more like it knocks you out, but I don’t think it’s all that restful.”
She patted the bed. “Come here.”
I sat on the edge of the mattress and stripped down to my boxer briefs. I slipped into bed next to her and gently cradled her in my arms.
Her warm breath fanned my skin and I was careful not to slide my fingers through her hair to avoid accidentally grazing the stitches at the back of her head.
“It’s finished,” I said.
She inhaled sharply but didn’t say anything; she only hugged me tighter.
“There’s something else.”
“What is it?” she asked.
“I’m leaving the club.”
